contemptuously Monsieur de Bonaparte. What did they do to save the crown
of the King of Rome, whose cradle they had saluted with such noisy
acclamations? Were not the Cossacks who went to Blois after the Empress
rapturously applauded by the French, in Paris itself, upon the very
boulevards? Did not the marshals of the Empire now serve as an escort
to Louis XVIII.? Where were the eagles, the flags, and the tricolored
cockades? When Napoleon was passing through Provence on his way to take
possession of his ridiculous realm of Elba, he was compelled to wear an
Austrian officer's uniform to escape being put to death by Frenchmen;
the imperial mantle was exchanged for a disguise. It is true that Marie
Louise abandoned the French; but did not the French abandon her and her
son after the abdication of Fontainebleau; and if this child did not
become Napoleon II., is not the fault theirs? And did she not do
all that could be demanded of her as regent? Can she be accused of
intriguing with the Allies; and if at the last moment she left Paris,
was it not in obedience to her husband's express command? She might well
have said what fifty-six years later the second Emperor said so sadly
when he was a prisoner in Germany: "In France one must never be
unfortunate." What was then left for her to do in that volcano, that
land which swallows all greatness and glory, amid that fickle people
who change their opinions and passions as an actress changes her dress?
Where Napoleon, with all his genius, had made a complete failure, could
a young, ignorant woman be reasonably expected to succeed in the face of
all Europe? Were her hands strong enough to rebuild the colossal edifice
that lay in ruins upon the ground?

Such were the reflections of Marie Louise as she was leaving France. The
moment she touched German soil, all the ideas, impressions, feelings of
her girlhood, came back to her, and naturally enough; for were there not
many instances in the last war, of German women, married to Frenchmen,